


'Til you came with the key

by MadameTourvel



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha John, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, M/M, Omega Sherlock, Omegaverse, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 13:16:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1606514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameTourvel/pseuds/MadameTourvel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief, casual encounter changes their lives in ways they cannot imagine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Til you came with the key

**Author's Note:**

> Birthday gift for my lovely internet friend Vana. After a lot of writing and rewriting, finally I came up with something I am pleased with and I hope she will like.  
> Inspired by some verses in a Morrissey song:  
> "I entered nothing and nothing entered me  
> 'Til you came with the key  
> And you did your best but  
> As I live and breathe  
> You have killed me  
> You have killed me"
> 
> UNBETAED AND UNBRITPICKED - ENGLISH NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE  
> CORRECTIONS, SUGGESTIONS AND FEEDBACK WELCOME  
> IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE MY BETA PLEASE PM ME.

A drug habit was something hard to sustain, especially if your family cut off your funds. So, like many addicts, Sherlock Holmes found himself in the world of prostitution. A lucrative one indeed; as an Omega, he usually sold his heats to wealthy clients for a good price. Cash only, and no kissing, no bonding allowed.

He had a safe place where he usually spent his heats, secluded and comfortable. He preferred to spend his heats alone - because sex and relationships were really not his areas of expertise - unless he was desperate for money. The price of a single heat was high enough to pay for his lifestyle until next heat and sometimes even a couple more months. If needed he would take some clients outside heat period, but had to charge less so it was usually not worth the effort. A very important rule: no regular customers. He felt safer and detached that way. He would usually think of his body as something alien, going to his mind palace while being fucked into the mattress. Control was key. Even in heat he was capable of being rational and controlling of the situation, just in case the client turned too eager and tried to force him beyond their deal or even worse, force a bond. With heat approaching and the last wad of cash in his wallet, Sherlock decided it was time to sell himself once again.

**\-----00000-----**

Depressed and not knowing what to do with his life, John Watson left the practice of his therapist. "Do something new" - she had said - "Start something. Do something you never dared to do". Apparently starting new activities would get him into the rhythm of urban life again and keep him busy until he got a job. He had serious doubts about it. He decided to walk home from the underground station. Cab: too expensive. He needed to get work soon, but with his injuries, depression and overqualification (not to mention age) it seemed a bit improbable. So he walked home as fast as his leg allowed it, trying to make it before it started to rain (of course, he had left his umbrella home)

He was about to turn around the corner when he saw a small manila envelope on the pavement. Someone had dropped it accidentally when walking on a hurry or getting out of the cab. He picked it up; it was sealed. Thinking that it maybe was important, he took it home to open it and see if there was some info pointing to the owner. Going up the stairs, he took the keys from his pocket and entered his minuscule, grey flat, and put the kettle to boil so he could eat something - instant noodles, again. While he waited he opened the envelope and was shocked to find £10,000 in cash. It was a miracle, for sure! - he would pay off his debts and maybe buy... oh. There was also a card on the envelope with a name and address.

**S. H.**

**16 Salford Park St.**

He doubted for a while. He needed the money badly. But on the other side, the person who lost it was the legitimate owner. Not knowing what to do, John sat to eat his noodles before making a decision. His gaze went back to the money again and again, but he knew he would feel uneasy and guilty if he kept the money. He had and address after all. Keeping it would be stealing.

**\-----00000-----**

First thing on the morning, John went to Salford Park St to return the money. He still felt torn and guilty, but he knew it was the right thing to do. He was broke and miserable, but he was not a thief. The neighbourhood was full of warehouses and closed shops and John felt pretty insecure, having such an amount of money on his jacket pocket. The last thing he wanted was to decide to return the money and being robbed in the way.

Salford Park was a dead-end alley in an industrial area. The address was hard to find but after some walking in circles John found the door and rang the bell. Someone looked through the peephole and he heard a deep voice asking him through the door.

-Did you bring the money?

-Ehhrmm, yes - John waved the envelope.

A small window opened on the door and a hand appeared. It was the strangest thing John had seen. What was this? A drug den? Someone acting as cashier for a mafia boss? He handed the envelope to the lanky hand, which quickly retreated and the window closed. Well, whatever it was, John didn´t want any part on it. He was turning around when he heard the door open and the deep baritone again.

\- Please, come in. – summoned the voice.

\- Sorry, but I was just returning the envelope – said John – I found it on the street and I… - he was interrupted

\- Are you an alpha?

\- Yes, I am – answered John, with some pride.

\- So, you are not using my services?

\- Maybe, if I knew what services you provide.

\- Please, come in- the voice repeated, opening the door a bit more.

Just because of curiosity and because he loved danger, John entered the room. He noticed right away that he was in a pretty comfortable, well furnished flat that didn’t resemble the exterior of the building at all. The second thing he noticed was the intoxicating smell. It was the unmistakable smell of an Omega in heat. He turned around and he saw a very thin, pale, dark haired man with intense grey eyes. The man was wearing just a dressing gown and pants and he looked ethereal. John had had never seen an Omega in heat before, and why this one in particular had admitted him in his flat was a complete mystery to him.

**\-----00000-----**

Sherlock looked at the stranger through the peephole. He was obviously not a customer – his looks and clothing showed with no doubt that he couldn´t afford his services - but he produced the money on an envelope. Oh! He found it on the street, then. Not a customer. But he was nice (although he looked vulnerable and broken), quite good-looking and was decent enough to return a large sum of money he obviously needed. The service was already paid – why not have a bit of fun with him? Sherlock was usually disinclined to charity, but the heat was here already and he had been paid.

He opened the door and the bloke came in, looking surprised. His eyes were surveying the flat before setting on Sherlock. The poor man didn´t have a clue.

-Well – said Sherlock, lowering his voice sexily- I am a rent boy. A prostitute, and a very expensive one. Have you ever had an Omega?

John shook his head silently, freezing in place.

-The money you brought –Sherlock continued-is my service fee. How would you like me?

John opened his eyes the size of dinner plates while his pupils dilated to a maximum. Why not? Novelty, something exciting, just what the therapist recommended. And the smell was seriously distracting him.

Instead, he said: -Actually, I would much rather use the money to pay my rent.

-Sorry, no refunds- said Sherlock, closing the distance between them and kissing John sweetly on the lips.

In a second, he realized he had kissed a client on a whim. Was he getting older and sentimental? It was highly unprofessional. But it felt really nice, John´s lips opening softly under his.

-What´s your name?- he asked, caressing John´s cheek.

-John.

-What an appropriate name you have, John. – and saying this he kissed him again, rougher this time, and John succumbed.

The smell, the sensation was overwhelming. He had never been kissed by a man before, and an Omega in heat no less. He felt an incontrollable urge to lick Sherlock´s nipples, and so he did, quite sloppily. Sherlock let out a wanton moan escape his lips, and started panting –he wasn´t as much in control as he usually had. But he wanted to enjoy what it seemed like a very pleasurable time. It was not unheard of prostitutes enjoying with particular clients from time to time, but to Sherlock this was certainly a first. He discovered that he didn’t care at all.

They kissed again as their hands traveled all along their intertwined bodies, tongues searching for each other and sliding pleasurably. Sherlock felt some lubrication starting to drip between his legs and let his dressing gown fall to the floor.

John looked at Sherlock in amazement. The man was gorgeous and he was very lucky. He started to get rid of his own clothes, feeling a bit self-conscious, although he was very fit and well built. Sherlock seemed to like it and looked at him with a lusty gaze. Sherlock grabbed John by the hand and took him to bed. Sitting in bed, he cupped his face and kissed him with increasing arousal, and felt John´s prick starting to swell, in preparation for knotting.

John had a lovely cock, thick and straight, and it was getting hard as rock. Sherlock shivered with anticipation just at the sight of it. He laid himself in bed, dragging John on top of him and they entangled their legs. Tenderly at first, they caressed and kissed, but soon the heat hormones started to take their toll and they rutted frenetically against one another, covered in sweat and biting and licking each inch of exposed flesh. John had never felt something so delicious, the sweet smell of Sherlock´s skin, his alabaster complexion, his beautifully muscled torso, and the eyes. The eyes made him feel dizzy with want and tenderness at the same time, and for a moment John forgot that they had just met. The connection was so beautiful, and full of meaning, that John let himself go and lost himself in the pleasure that Sherlock´s arms provided.

Sherlock was starting to lose control, despite his efforts. His body ached for the knot – and he even found himself thinking about bonding, a thought he quickly discarded. Why was this client different? He was drawn to him like a magnet, he couldn´t get closer and yet he yearned for more contact, for more brushing of their nipples and cocks, to feel John´s tongue exploring everywhere. His own mouth and hands seemed to have a mind of their own, mapping John´s body with eagerness, his round and firm butt, his hard and leaking cock, his graying and soft hair. Soon, Sherlock was desperate for penetration and circled his hips to get John interested. John didn’t need much convincing, and when he finally entered Sherlock´s wet passage it was absolute bliss. The sensation of the slippery head of John´s cock entering and then exiting just to enter again set his head spinning.

-Ah, more. Hmmm. Yes, that, like that. Yes, mmmmhhhh. Perfect. Oh, yes, you are so lovely, John. Look how hard and wet you are. And so hot. Hmmm, yes.

The sound of Sherlock´s deep baritone whispering dirty words and moaning made it for John, and his knot started to swell. It wasn´t long until he was ejaculating thick ribbons of hot semen into Sherlock´s passage. Sherlock felt the hot seed and the knot fill him and started to shake with the waves of his own climax, joining John in a shattering orgasm.

John had never felt something so intense, it was wave after wave of incredible pleasure that caused all his body to shiver and tremble and he shouted and shouted as he felt Sherlock´s muscles milking him one time after another. He opened his eyes and looked into Sherlock´s. He wasn´t prepared for what he saw. They were surrounded by a blue translucid bubble, a shimmering light that seemed to come from thin air and protect them, ethereal and soft like Sherlock´s eyes. He felt his heart accelerated, like all of his life was being projected in front of him through Sherlock´s eyes. He felt loved, and cared for, and safe. The connection was so intense that he started to cry. Sherlock felt the powerful connection as well, and when he saw that John was crying, he embraced him tightly and held him through the end of their orgasm and the peace that followed.

**\-----00000-----**

The next morning after the heat ended, John left very early, while Sherlock still slept. They had been having sex for three days and the sensations and the connection between them only increased with each round of mind-blowing sex. He knew that what had happened was incredible and life changing, but at the same time it scared him to no end. He had no idea about its meaning, but he had a lust for life he hadn’t felt in years. He decided it was time to leave; why would someone like Sherlock want him, after all?

When Sherlock woke up alone, he knew that something had changed forever and that John had been his last client. Suddenly drugs seemed uninteresting and a waste of time compared to the sensations he felt with John. He felt clean and energized, like something inside him had resetted. But he didn’t know where to find John.

**\-----00000-----**

Three months later, Sherlock´s heat was approaching again.

-Hello, Mycroft? I need a favour. I need to locate a person.

**Author's Note:**

> The address of Sherlock´s bunker in Salford Park St. is fictitious. I made it up. There is no such a street in London, according to London A-Z Guide.
> 
> ETA: I am surprised to find this modest, flawed fic has received such a positive response. I will continue and expand it as soon as possible (probably in 2 or 3 weeks because I will be very busy until the first week of June). Thanks for all the lovely comments and suggestions.


End file.
